


A Fleshling-Robot Romance: Not Romantic At All

by sunnywasabi



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Transformers (Bay Movies), fury road
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnywasabi/pseuds/sunnywasabi
Summary: Furiosa got her War Rig and they were going home.
Relationships: Furiosa / Megatron
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	A Fleshling-Robot Romance: Not Romantic At All

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [A Fleshling-Robot Romance: Not Romantic At All特别冷的人机拉郎](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650189) by [sunnywasabi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnywasabi/pseuds/sunnywasabi). 



A Fleshling-Robot Romance: Not Romantic At All  
…………………………………………………………  
This mud-earth is rotten, he thought, a little bit glad for what he was seeing. What did I say, brother? You destroyed me. You destroyed us. You destroyed OUR HOME for all these fleshlings, who never cherished their home planet as much as you did. Look, if ever you lived, and tell me they did not deserve it. 

He was locked in deep sleep when the fleshlings began their War. In the deepest radioactive dust of the ultimate war was he asleep. He dreamed of his home. He dreamed of his days of a hatchling, with his brother, sharing the heat from their spark chambers. He dreamed of the glorious moment when the sun rose from the orbit of Cybertron, when they were granted with the mission of protecting their world. THEIR world. 

The War killed this mud earth, shoving back its civilizations to a few centuries ago. In a blink of eye, reverse engineering of Cybertronian technologies devoured this tiny little planet, brought this mud ball back to what it ought to be. He gathered his strength, along the way was awakened by the noises from the fleshlings. Unfortunately, he was still locked in his disguise form. Disguised he remained, for he had learned his lesson. He was low in energy. He had countless wounds to heal. He chose to wait.

He took his time to observe this batch of fleshlings. He soon understood their hierarchy: one dictator, a few lieutenants, a loyal army, and swarms of weak, yet violent slaves. The Dictator controlled the precious liquid state of H2O, the one they once called water, now aqua-cola. Owning aqua-cola, he allied with other warlords. 

One of the warlords owned what he needed for fuel, the gasoline. Sadly, the mayor of the gasoline town loved trading more than fighting, thus the People Eater never proposed a deal for a more powerful weapon like him. If he thought twice, he would be ashamed of himself for expecting a greasy fleshling to buy him.

But he could be the last Cybertronian on this damned planet. His pride proved nothing to nobody. He sneered, engine letting go a dry humming in his disguise form. The female fleshling next to him fueled him with one hand, and patted him with another hand. A hand made in metal pieces.  
“In a moment.” She said.

He didn’t need to lift a scan to know she was talking to him. She had been talking to him for a while. The Dictator gave him to her. She mended him, modified him, and gave him maintenance. She painted stupid patterns on him. When no one of her kind was around, she talked to him.

She talked about her home, her mothers-her initiate mother and birth mother, and her sisters. She told him that one day, she would drive him back to the Green Place, back to home. 

Like I care. He scorned. He hated the fleshlings. He hated female fleshlings more. They possessed more endurance than the males. They never gave up. They were unexpected creatures, talking strange things for which one shall fell. His tribe had a concept that was close to what the fleshlings called “sexes”. That, however, was more of bots of another style. Sexes of the fleshlings were complicated. Their reproduction required the male and the female to intercourse in a disgusting fashion. Then in womb, the chamber planted in the body of the female, a new spark was produced in a fragile fleshy shell. This reproduction mechanism was primitive, yet effective enough to populate the planet. Alas. So many females were destroyed in the War, so many wombs died. Now a female who can host a spark was more valuable than the combination of hydrogen and oxygen. No doubt her mothers and sisters were prey to other fleshlings. Her home must be doomed when she was taken away. He’d love to laugh at her if he had more energy. The predators got unlucky, however, that as a female she couldn’t produce any new spark. The Dictator must be very, very disappointed, until she proved herself a worthy warrior. She paid her price with one fleshy forearm and became his general. The Dictator was satisfied. He found other breeders anyway, the ones he hid in her fortress to give him hatchlings. He had a few, not so perfect, and grew more obsessed with making new sparks. He was so obsessed, that she planned her escape right under his nose.

Like I care. All he needed was to use these fleshlings for a cover when he was accumulating his strength. He would tolerate her mumblings only because her story of home brought to him a faint sense of nostalgia. He didn’t like her. Her name was Furiosa, an ugly name. The name she picked up for him was even worse: The War Rig. How original.

The fleshlings gave him many names: the Iceman, the Megaman, NBE-1, Galvatron, the War Rig. Wait till he was full-fueled. One day he would transform in front of Furiosa. Before he crashed her and other fleshlings beneath his foot, he would kindly remind them of his name:  
Megatron.

………………………………………………  
TF3+Mad Max4 AU  
Furiosa x Megatron  
I can’t help it: the War Rig resembled Megatron’s disguise form in Transformers 3.


End file.
